Morris tribune., 1887-10-05

shone forth with sudden silvery splendor,
and Timothy distinctly saw some one
something-dart rapidly across the yard.
Now, Timothy had well nigh forgotten
the occurrence of that other memorable
night. For few days Though he had
never tolerated an allusion to it from
Bertha, after that one moment OF horror
stricken abandon) he had been haunted
with an abiding terror, which every now
and then sent the cold perspiration run
ming down his back. But that had worn
off, and he had recently only looked back
upon what had happened then as upon a
Authorization which had come of his over
heated blood and overtaxed nerves, his
general indisposition; promising himself,
grimly, that if ever he wrought himself up
thinking of Beattie and all that dead bust
ness again, buried long ago-wen, he
would know it
But all this elaborate and defiant
philosophy sank together like heap Of
ashes when he saw that shadow cross his
yard. His knees shook and his hands
trembled He stood still, with his AFTER
les pounding wildly and his eyes staring
into the yard, which the moon, now yelled
once more, only illuminated in faint
and ghostly way
Then he saw ray of light shine out
from the kitchen window. To make one
dash for that became his only instinct.
To stand there second longer had be-
come unbearable.
He moved and passed through the gap
| in the fence. He took few steps. Some
thing moved in front of him.
He wanted to cry out, but his tongue
seemed glued to the roof OF his mouth.
Again q sudden burst of moonlight.
And this time no mistake, no delusion
possible. Four steps in front of him,
turning q CHASTITY white face upon him,
rooted to the spot, stood Beattie
Beattie as he had stolen up to the gap
in the fence that other night, pressed his
face through it and gaZed at him with his
distended eyes, and vanished!
A low cry of horror came from the
house. Tho kitchen door had been
opened. Bertha stood upon the TIRES
| hold One second she stood, then she
glided forward and past the apparition
and threw herself on her fathers breast.
Father, father! Oh, don't look so aw-
fully! Say something's
'Sir-Mr. Pinckney,n said the appari-
zion, instead, and, for an apparition, it
had wonderfully substantial voice,
| though one that trembled and quaked.
81 can explain everything if you will let
me.n
eyes, yes; he can explain everything"
repeated Bertha, Historically.
Eyes, sir! Explain, sir! Explain"
Numbered Timothy Pinckney, in tremen-
| dous tones. ''Who are you, sir? Tres
passing in my yard at this time of nightf'
''Mr. Pinckney, my name is Beattie." $
'Beattie? l see it is, sir! Go on"
MISUNDERSTANDING. Pinckney, II
Il love Bertha and Bertha loves me-"
"The devil she doesr
'Look here young man, if Pm not mis-
taken, used to know your father"
"Oh, father" moaned Miss Bertha
again.
Don't be foolr' said the old man
sharply to his offspring. Then-"Come
in. both of you"
When the trembling culprits stood
under the dim light of the tallow wick in
the kitchen, Timothy looked Beattie's son
over with lynx eyed scrutiny under his
| beetle brows.
"Humph You don't look so awfully
like your dad after alp 81 81
Then-"How longs this thing been go
| ing on under my nose?"
"We've been keepin' company since last
winter, Mr.. Pinckpey, and Bertha prom
ised to marry me tAen. Only as you were
kinder opposed to her meetin' young men,
we sorter kept it quiet, and Bertha, she
used to come out in the yard sometimes"
"While you skunk around the fence,
ehgr -
ooh, fatherr' came from Bertha.
Timothy had been Illuminating.
He looked up.
"You got enough to support wife?''
eyes, STRIP proudly, from the expectant
bridegroom.
"Well, you can have her."
ooh, father" said Bertha five minutes
later, as father and daughter gained their
| sleeping apartments upstairs, "whatA
what made you look so dreadful when you
saw Beattie standing in the yard' You
looked most-most as frightened as he
didr'
"Hold your tongue and mind your busi-
ness, will your said Timothy. And he
| slammed his bedroom door.
He is still accommodating and rolling up
his gains, and neither his conscience nor
Beattie have troubled this tough old man
ce.-Agnes. Clifford in New York Mer-
| curry.